The Case of the Missing Pathologist
by whovianwrites
Summary: Sherlock only realises his feelings for Molly when she's not there.


**I should not be doing this. I have a 4000 word essay to write and several _Whovian Prompts _to complete and I am supposed to be on a fanfic hiatus until my essay is done. But, oh look, I'm writing my first Sherlolly oneshot. What can I say? I'm new to the good ship Sherlolly and was so inspired by other fanfics, headcanons etc. that I had to write my own. There are no spoilers but there is a bit of fluff and plenty of panicky!Sherlock. Enjoy! :)**

Sherlock walked into St Bart's with John a couple of steps behind him. They didn't have a case but Sherlock wanted John's help for an experiment and for that he needed body parts. As they stepped into the morgue, something didn't feel right. Sherlock stopped abruptly as he realised what was wrong. Molly. She wasn't here.

He quickly entered his mind palace to see if there was any particular reason why Molly wasn't in work. Slightly sub-consciously, he had memorised her days off. In fact, if he was being completely honest with himself, he had put every single little detail about Molly Hooper into his mind palace like a squirrel hoarding acorns for the winter. Molly's room in his mind palace was currently the size of a ballroom and was growing all the while as he found out more about his pathologist.

Sherlock blinked, shaking away the thought of Molly being his. He had concluded from his short trip to his mind palace that she was supposed to be at work. So, why wasn't she here? Sherlock got John to speak to Molly's colleagues to find out where she was while he started to text her.

_Molly? - SH_

_Where are you? - SH_

_I need to know where you are - SH_

It could be argued that being the clever consulting detective that he was, he could have deduced her whereabouts. But, he couldn't think straight. He was too caught up in his worry about Molly. That was new - he had sentiment. His thoughts were interrupted by John's return.

"I've asked around," John began. "She is supposed to be here but she hasn't turned up yet."

Sherlock grunted at the obviousness of John's words. He resumed his texts to Molly.

_If convenient, contact me - SH_

_If inconvenient, still TEXT me - SH_

_Seriously, where are you? - SH_

_"_They don't know where she is either. But, they're not too fussed. They trust Molly and don't really mind if she's late because they know she'll make the time up," John continued as Sherlock fired off one more text.

_Why aren't you replying to me? - SH_

He then looked at John and said. "It's no use. Molly always responds even if it's just to tell me to go away. I'm going to have to go to her flat. You stay here and contact me if she turns up."

"OK. If you're sure..."

"Of course, I'm sure," Sherlock snapped. "This may seem like a two to you but to me, it's a ten!"

John looked as shocked as Sherlock felt. He had never admitted his feelings towards Molly to anyone before, not even to himself. Again, this was new. But, he didn't want to explore this development right now. Nor was he particularly inclined to discussing this with John. He just wanted to find Molly.

"Just stay here," Sherlock demanded before John could open his mouth to speak.

Sherlock swept out of the room. When he got outside, he hailed a cab which stopped immediately. He got in and gave orders to the driver to get them to Molly's flat as soon as possible. He pulled out his phone to send another text to Molly.

_Read this and then call me IMMEDIATELY - SH_

He was still getting no response so he decided to call her instead. He dialled her number and was greeted a series of beeps and a message that told him the number was unavailable and to try again later. He pressed the call button again and heard the same message. Now, he was feeling concerned. What had happened to Molly? He was agitated as the cab sped through the streets of London. He began typing on his phone again. His fingers hesitated over the send button as he read what he had written: _Please, say you're alright, Molly. I'm worried about you. _This surge of feeling was unexpected, confusing and a little bit frightening. Sherlock recalled his brother saying that showing emotion was a weakness. But, Sherlock was inclined to disagree. He was certainly experiencing new feelings about Molly but if anything, these emotions were giving him a clarity about his purpose. Still, his fingers hovered over 'send'. A second later, he was deleting the text and writing a new one.

_Molly, I need you - SH_

He had sent that message and Sherlock felt it was much better. It was more ambiguous and could be construed in several different ways. The cab pulled up outside Molly's block of flats. Sherlock reached into his pocket and shoved a scrumpled up note towards the driver. As he got out, he did not even check that it was the right denomination. A little old lady was coming out of the block entrance and Sherlock rushed past before the door could close on him. He raced up the stairs, anxious to find out if Molly was in her flat. As he neared her door, he could hear some strange sounds. He paused for a second as he tried to work out what he was hearing. _Ah, Toby, _Sherlock deduced. He had never seen it but he knew that Molly owned a cat called Toby and judging by the mewling he could hear, Toby was currently one very hungry cat. He listened even more carefully at the door and could also hear a shuffling noise. He raised his hand and knocked insistently on the door. His heart leapt as he heard a voice, that was clearly Molly. It was indistinct; he couldn't quite work out what she was saying. The next moment, a lock clicked and the door opened. He was visibly relieved when he saw who was standing on the other side.

"Sherlock?" Molly asked with a mixture of surprise, confusion and sleepiness.

She looked dishevelled, almost as if she had only just woken up. In fact, she had just woken up. Sherlock could see that in the one second that he took to study her. Her hair was in disarray, half out of a ponytail. Her strawberry patterned pyjamas were all crumpled and creased. She was bleary-eyed and kept blinking in order to adjust to the light.

"You didn't answer your phone," Sherlock said in a tone that was nowhere near as dismissive as it normally was.

"What time is it?" Molly's brain was still a little sleep-addled and it was taking a bit longer than normal for her brain to catch up.

Sherlock glanced at his watch and responded, "9:32."

That woke Molly up completely. Whatever she had been feeling before was overtaken by sheer panic. "Oh god. I'm late for work. I overslept. Toby - oh I need to feed him - he knocked my alarm clock off my bedside table and it broke. I set the alarm on my phone but the battery must have died."

Sherlock let out an amused exhale. He was about to ask Molly what had happened but there was no need now. She had premptively given her the explanation and reasoning that he needed. He was absurdly pleased that nothing untoward had befallen his pathologist. _Again with the ownership, _he thought with bemusement. He shook his head to clear that thought and returned his attention back to Molly who was still chuntering on.

"Oh god. I can't believe this. I have so much to do before I even get to work. I'm going to be so late."

Deciding that he should leave Molly to it, he put on a detached and casual air as he said, "Well, you are evidently okay so I will leave you to get ready for work. I will be waiting for you at the morgue."

He left the flat and walked back down the stairs. He knew that his behaviour had intrigued Molly and she would be retrieving her phone in order to unravel this intrigue. Sure enough, several minutes later, as Sherlock was sitting in a cab on his way back to St Barts, he received a text message from Molly.

_I know I don't have to reply as you've just seen me but this is to let you know that I got your texts - Molly x_

Sherlock smiled as his phone buzzed again.

_What do you need, Sherlock? - Molly x_

He blushed. He was so glad that they weren't having this conversation face-to-face. He took a deep breath as he sent a reply.

_A kidney to experiment on - __SH_

_Nine texts, two missed calls AND a visit to my flat? You must really want that kidney! - Molly x_

Sherlock was slightly nonplussed. He didn't know how to respond. He got the feeling that Molly was teasing him and had worked out his real reason behind the influx of texts. He didn't really want to lie to Molly but he also didn't want to tell Molly about his newly discovered feelings until he understood them more himself. For the time being, he just wanted to go back to normal. But, he thought as he slipped his mask back into place and sent one more text, perhaps they were both content to act as though they were in denial.

_See you at St Bart's shortly - SH_


End file.
